Grifting, Betrayal Vibes Alive
They broke me in pieces,
Thought I'd stay scattered on the pavement
But I ascended like a scandal they couldn't
Repose, every word a renewal.
I stitched my scars with tempo, made my
Heart beat,
A drum line, turned their lies into study,
Turned my pain into a spine.
I trudge heavier now-not with hurt, but with
Savvy, Every pace a comeback, Every breath a
Showing.
They tested to dim my fire, but I'm born with
Sureness.
But from Betrayal, activated by vision,
Unshaking, loosened up- A self- made revision.
"Though all have endless love within, many feel they have none until external love shows as fantasies contend." ~~ Poet
I thought I knew love’s emotional pallet,
then you gathered me in passions ballad
and my sureness tossed in kinetic transport.
In your embrace, all I knew became unglued.
Such an amazing, glorious sensation
increased its revelation because your known
was equally thrown, richly altered just as my own.
Times like now, our desires seek declaration
from our mutual flames celebration
of romantic love we both hold as a blessing.
You say our love is so tenderly strong, it is truly poetic.
Tonight, as your lips tantalize mine until intoxicated,
the entire world fades away unrealized ~
only we exist inside a shared bliss that enthralls.
Again, and once more, I always seek your lips for kisses
I adore while wishing all were reality, not my fantasies
creating a sedating escape from the unrequited
love I am always bleeding. It is silent kisses
and all my other pretendings that keep
what never started from
ever ending.
She laughs, she cries, then she sighs
brimming with confidence,
the pain within she denies
Her heart thumps then skips a beat,
as she reads poetry, a taste of bittersweet
In quiets empty moments, a hole
remains deeply in the soul,
an abyss, an unmeasured chasm
It’s the space p~o~e~t~r~y fills
Her personal dead poet society
stirring her deepest passions
awakens her dormant desire
her quest not for fame or fortune
but for the elusive treasure of inner piece
Her confidence misconstrues itself for vanity perhaps
sureness
positiveness
conviction
certitude
reliability
assuredness
assurance
validity
conclusiveness
authoritativeness
truth
factualness
self-possession
nerve
poise
aplomb
presence of mind
phlegm
level-headedness
cool-headedness
firmness
courage
boldness
mettle
fortitude
belief in oneself
faith in oneself ...
…
…
...are all just more vanities?
free-spirited or lost soul?
do both make one another?
the vanity of human wishes?
work in progress…
In awe I lay upon the verdant knoll,
mesmerised by the silent starry sky,
a mirror gleaming deep within my soul,
reflecting timelessness, I barely know.
Venerate Venus dances in reverse,
spinning our musings under mulberry moons,
when we chased illusions, beneath the Queen’s chair,
through realms where reasons dared not delve,
our hearts lost in a cosmic haze.
in this wilderness of mirrors,
I hanker headlong into hallucinations,
peering through perfect panes of promises,
or is it prisms of pretences,
till stars themselves begin to speak
“She shall shatter your sureness”
and you will gather
the pieces like fallen constellations,
too sharp to hold,
too sacred to leave behind.
Written: April 14, 2025, for contest Sponsored by: Suzette Richards
***********************************
In shimmering twilight, a memento on the moon lies quiet,
a story etched in silver dust, evokes the wanderer of the past.
Moon serenity is countless, and heart beats bear sureness.
Astral footsteps foster starlight, tracks of kismet smite.
Human creation will grow, even as infernal fungi blow,
Guided by its healing glow, ideas rise as heaven flows.
A beacon for cosmic treasure hunters, lost in wonder,
Scattering nuclear waves across our broken raves.
Moon rulers of night's endless canvas, secrets soundless,
Each crater bears a mark of human spirit, etched by hopes legit.
Echoes of vast growth, the fallout of anarchy, and sloth,
A stark slant of man trespass, bloody scenes of raw gas.
Visions reveal paths daring, souls can roam in the glaring,
A reminder that dreams stay, even under peaceful skies.
Never knew senses could deceive until now,
seeing a bright I scurry .
Nirvana makes my imagination go mere gesture.
where I lay unaware of raucous voice ,
Is this the locus?
A dear face I recognize,
charming as allure itself .
I believed as we cross paths again,
wonder gets my most reflecting how u did.
My dear, embrace me as first-ever.
Must I realize my sureness taking over,
as my prime fancy fulfills.
Shall we never be alone anew, strangled?
I shall yield to the choice you deem fit.
If you harmonize ,
let's reborn in heartbound household,
let's fly to the moon playing with stellas,
gazing on how it pours on distant barras.
Pretty, fill me with fine,
tipple from my within.
Leave us singing forevermore,
hands clasped vowing never again.
Then dawn on me from coma,
the mumbling voices ne'er fading.
As I realize my stifle ill-fated,
Finds me dolorously endeavoring.
All the faith washes away ,
my precious wait for me a bit longer,
I lost.
Keep The Faith
Miracle Man
November 27, 2023
Today’s view of the world,
can often be despairing.
Some face this adversity,
with sureness and daring.
Many others will bog down,
with doubt and with fear.
As Satan pulls each one,
toward the depths of drear.
But it doesn’t really matter,
what we’re facing today.
Jesus identifies with our pain,
and will take us away.
So be not overly concerned,
as is the manner of some.
There comes a falling away,
before the end will come.
I looked at my Mom in her 60’s and mused
I have 30 more years that’s unused
Before those wrinkles start to show
In this smooth face gazing from the mirror
Smug in my sureness
Yet also showing my immatureness.
I looked at my mom in her 70’s and again
Believing I had 20 more years in my brain
Even though I now see a wrinkle or two
Brushing it aside was my error
Time did not wait for me
Then she was suddenly eight three.
This time I only had years ten
Before I would considered myself old
But when did all those wrinkles descend
And dreams border on terror?
Then I remembered my soul’s true direction
Age and death are just a preview
Beyond the vail we live in blissful perfection
Where everyone’s soul is once again new.
©?Deborah M Kelly 2023
Where has he gone
This illusion of me
Still hidden in a childs pain
Where has he gone this vision of me
Manifested in change
Lost in a creation of self denial
Where has he gone
Twisted in fear
Searching for inspiration
Where has he gone
This man of wonder and love
Locked away from times forgiveness
Where has he gone
This man of courage and grace
Slipping on the banana peals of rage
Where has he gone
This man of strength and sureness
Cast aside to the rock edges of love
Where has he gone
This reflection of me with a smile on my face
Broken to pieces at the feet of my insecurities
Where has he gone this man of definition.
Who holds sureness in making wishes true?
On the park bench, I'm wishing for a star.
A square impeachable mea culpa screw.
Who holds sureness in making wishes true?
Perhaps a spark that sparks optimism blew.
I cross the stream just to be where you are.
Who holds sureness in making wishes true?
On the park bench, I'm wishing for a star.
Written: March 11, 2023
What might be the matter
With our next-door Martha,
Her rash mischief steady
And she, by choice, heady;
Content to seem an Eddy,
Her gross slaps often ready
Last week, the cheeks of Freddie?
And her guy who is intelligent
Keeps betraying more The Belligerent
Our own share of Satan’s Sergeant,
For his weapons include detergent
And maybe, tomorrow, A Reagent!
A huge surprise they call him agent,
Who thinks and acts like an insurgent.
I keep espying an aggressiveness
Of catching sureness and silliness
You know for sure things have turned really bad;
when mess gets cleared, none will be able to cope;
Consequently outcome bound to make one sad.
Let's not give false hope?
But, when each event of life fully betray
people don't have words, just to avoid the grief
they do assure, everything will be OK
Does that bring relief?
Knowing well the consequences why to say
only such words to give unreal sureness?
Should we ever utter ‘it will be OK’?
Why give assurance?
When all things falling apart, she is thinking
how to face the world alone, it'd be better
to assure she's not alone, most convincing
words to give shelter.
When she'll know, not to face alone depths of grief,
that heartfelt assurance surely lift her trust.
If chaos occurs, someone to bring relief
that sureness to thrust.
Flower extract
On the body worn ahead of human contact,
A pressurized can preserving it;
With a vaporizing mechanism
That upon actuation gets friendly faces lit,
Further brightening the ones bought over by tribalism.
A liquefied fragrance for armpits
But also for arresting smells keener than a cesspit’s
And for the fortunate handkerchief
Of a folk alive to bad odour and its mischief.
To it a woman lends her neck,
Fully trusting the romantic havoc it does wreck;
A roguish sureness that some man against it shall brush
And a withdrawal from same not rush,
Lingered kisses planting there
With the whole world finding it just fair!
Perfume is by the fashionable grabbed;
During a kidnap, together with it nabbed,
The female habitual user letting out a frustrated sigh
After a shopping and she didn’t remember to it buy.
Go to sleep now.
.
.
.
And when you awake you will find
A new world, with new desires
New feelings, new beliefs and new joys
You will experience a sense of total satisfaction
Acceptance, and sureness of yourself
No more pain and need and disappointment
Only gentle bliss.
But that makes me less
That steals away my humanity, my comparisons
My decisions; even my mistakes.
You don’t have the right to deny me my suffering
Who makes these decisions anyway?
Let me up -- I must go
Damn these straps and your stone-faced grin!
Let me up -- My tears spew with hatred
Rage seething as my blood and snot and weeping mix
.
.
.
Go to sleep now. . . .
If but my passion
I could capture in one hand
The power I would wield.
Doubts and fear.
Crushed like granite
under an anvils throw.
If but my passion
Could make this foot move.
I would surely climb the highest peak.
With sureness.
With faith.
Gaze to the valleys in disbelief.
If but my passion.
Were of a rain showers passing.
Then the water that laid bare.
Shall employ the sun.
To grow the peace
of a forest green.
If but my passion
Were the rolling stone.
Then what simple effort.
This life could be.
Never a question
to be misunderstood.
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